


Worth

by imagineagreatadventure



Series: My JB Appreciation Week 2015 Fics [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cold Weather, Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Huddling For Warmth, Jaime/Brienne Appreciation Week, Post - A Dance With Dragons, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:51:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4973866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagineagreatadventure/pseuds/imagineagreatadventure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime and Brienne scout together outside Winterfell and have to warm themselves back up. </p><p>Yes, there is smut.</p><p>JB Week Day Seven: White</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth

The white cloak stained him.

He would have been so much more without it.

He wouldn’t be here swimming in the snow with the wench behind him. 

Winterfell was surrounded by the snow, the ruined castle scorched and terrible to behold. It was almost as eerie as Harrenhal from afar. 

Both castles haunted Jaime.

The wench coughed again. He was grateful it was free of blood. The soldiers and knights that weren’t being killed by wights or hunger or their injuries were coughing more than just spit. 

“C’mon, wench,” he said, pulling her hand. 

“Brienne,” she coughed. 

He smiled despite the circumstances. “Brienne,” he acquiesced. “We’re almost to the damned castle.”

They had gone on a ranging mission together, looking for the wights and the Others. So far the latest battle scared the beings off — they had not found them anywhere nearby. But the snow was falling heavily onto their heads. The snow was to the level of his chest now and if they didn’t get to Winterfell soon, it would reach Brienne's. 

But it was hard to move in such packed snow. 

They’d die under Winterfell’s tower.

It was an apt fate for him, Jaime knew. He remembered throwing the boy off the tower. But it wasn’t fair to Brienne.

Whose cough was worsening. 

If there was no snow, he’d pick her up and put her over his shoulder. He told her once he was strong enough and he wished he could prove it now. 

But the snow was as cruel as his white cloak. 

“Jaime,” she said causing him to look back at her. 

Her eyes ( _sapphires)_ were filled with tears. He had only seen her so close to weeping a few times before. When Lady Stoneheart died, when they had saved Sansa from Littlefinger at the tourney at the Eyrie, when he almost killed himself upon hearing about the results of Cersei’s trial — every time it happened, it took him aback. 

Brienne was so strong and stoic that he often forgot her heart was as feminine as Sansa’s. Although he wasn't sure how. One of the first things she did was bury women who'd been strung up by wolves.

“Leave me,” she begged. “I’m holding you back.”

Jaime licked his lips. The cold was making his stump feel like it was on fire. “No.”

“Jaime,” she argued.

“Stupid, stubborn wench, we have but a mile or so until the first guard post.”

“Let me die,” she tried to make him let go of her hand. 

“No. Live. You still have Stannis to kill don’t you?” Jaime asked. 

“Jaime,” Brienne said, her tears spilling onto her cheeks. They froze instantly. 

“Wench,” he growled. “You’re not allowed to die. We still have another Stark girl to find and save. Our oaths remember.”

At her silence, he spoke the name he never wanted to say again. “For Catelyn Stark.”

This seemed to wake Brienne and she nodded. “Live to find Arya.”

_No, live for me._ “Yes, now let’s go before the snow covers even your head.”

A shy smile appeared on her twisted face, changed completely since he had met her. She had never been a beauty and never would be thanks to Biter, Lady Stoneheart, and that ilk, but still, he couldn’t help but think of her as one.

* * *

The light from their torches finally died, but fortunately the guards that Snow posted found them right as they were about to give up.

They were sent to their room, for Jaime insisted on one room, not willing to allow Brienne at risk. There were too many strange men here, too many men too desperate for a warm cunt to bury themselves in — Jaime had lost a hand to protect her from rapers, he wasn’t going to allow someone to succeed at it now. 

A wildling had already tried once, breaking into their room.

Brienne had incapacitated him with a punch before Jaime had even woken up. She hadn’t been asleep, she said, looking horrified that the raggedy wildling had tried to steal her. The man had been full in his cups or else Jaime would have removed something more valuable than a hand. 

Jon Snow had only smiled lightly when Jaime told him the tale, annoying Jaime more than he could say. 

“It’s what they do,” he said with only a shrug. 

“And if they do it again, I won’t let Brienne take care of it,” Jaime had warned.

“I’ll make that clear that your… _lady_ has already been stolen by you.”

“She’s a maid. I sleep in the room to prevent occurrences like this.”

“But it seems like she can handle herself very well,” Jon Snow had said, a dark look on his face, “so perhaps you’re there for another reason.”

“Examine her if you’d like,” Jaime snapped at the infuriating boy. “But I think we have more pressing concerns than a maidenhead!”

The boy had only laughed as Jaime stormed away. 

He wasn’t laughing now, watching them with wary eyes. For a moment, Jaime was reminded of Prince Rhaegar. It was the melancholy look in them, Jaime knew, Rhaegar had never looked truly happy and Jon never did either. 

Especially now. “You saw no signs of them?” he asked, as Jaime and Sansa placed Brienne into the bed. 

“No signs, Ser,” Jaime said currently, distracted by the white sheen on Brienne’s face. “Not for miles. The snow should slow even them down.”

Sansa looked just as worried. “I’ll find towels.”

Jon smiled at Sansa as she left, but it disappeared once she was gone. “The snow slowed you?”

“It’s almost as tall as the wench. Of course it slowed us,” Jaime snapped. 

Brienne opened an eye. It was so very blue. “Stop it,” she ordered before coughing twice.

Sansa burst back through the door, “Jon, the men are arguing about guard duty, the snow is too heavy to see, they’re saying.”

Their commander sighed, looking somehow older than even Jaime. “Fine, I’ll deal with that. When Brienne is well I expect a full report from you both.”

“It snowed, that’s the report,” Jaime said.

Jon ignored that as he left, while Sansa handed Jaime a towel. “It’s best to remove her clothes,” she said. “And you should remove yours too. You must be freezing.”

Jaime was, but he had forgotten in his rush to see Brienne situated. “Take care of her first, then we’ll worry about me.”

Sansa didn’t smile. She still didn’t like him, despite also being a Lannister herself now, not that he was stupid enough to remind her of this. The only words they had ever spoken about Tyrion were her own, telling him that Tyrion didn’t kill his son. But that she wished he did. 

“You can go,” Jaime said, after Sansa wiped down Brienne’s face. “I’ll take care of her.”

Sansa narrowed her eyes. “I’ll take care of her,” she argued. “I don’t think she’d want you to see her like this.”

Sansa was one of the few to realize that Brienne _wasn’t_ the Kingslayer’s Whore. But because or despite this, Sansa seemed to think Jaime had the worst intentions about her favorite maiden. He couldn’t blame her since his family had attempted the destruction of her family, but he had hoped that after so much time together that she’d see that he wasn’t interested in hurting anyone. 

Especially not Brienne.

“I’ve seen her naked before,” he growled, “and I’ve taken care of men who have been frozen.” That was a lie. “You’re probably needed elsewhere.” Also a lie.

Brienne opened her eyes again. “I can handle him, Sansa.”

The damned wench had been awake the whole time. And of course the little Stark girl took Brienne at her word, everyone took Brienne’s word — not his, and ran off with just one glare at Jaime. 

He resisted throwing a towel at Sansa’s precious hair.

“Jaime, what do I need to do?” Brienne asked, pushing herself up. She already looked better from laying down in bed with a warm fire so close by but Jaime knew she had to get out of her wet clothes.

“Take everything off,” he ordered brusquely. “I have to do the same.” Brienne blushed and he couldn’t help but grin. “We’ve seen each other before, wench. You even held me in your arms.”

Her mouth was a set line at that. “You could have died then.”

“And you could die now, take the clothes off or do I have to help you?”

Brienne grumbled, “You’re more likely to need my help.” 

Unfortunately, she was correct. His stump was useless at untying laces and his fingers couldn't stop moving, they were so chilled. Jaime cursed at his luck while Brienne threw her clothes by the fire, covering herself with the blanket so he could only see her white calves. He wished he could see the rest of her.

“Help me, wench,” he said and so Brienne did, adjusting the blanket around her so it hung underneath her armpits and around her breasts. With quicker fingers than he, she managed to remove his pants with only half of her face turning bright red, the half that wasn’t covered by scar tissue. 

His shirt flew off quickly after and soon he was naked before her. “Where’s my blanket?” he winked.

Brienne looked him right in the eye and pointed at his bed. 

“You know the best way to be warm together is to lie two bodies next to each other.” That was what a wildling woman told him, a spearwife, when she was trying to aim herself into his arms, finding him as handsome as Lord Snow, as the wildlings called him. Jaime shoved her out and found Brienne laughing at him, her smile as awkward as her gait, but still, he enjoyed seeing it. 

“I know,” Brienne said, pulling her blanket around her even tighter than before. She looked ridiculous, her straw like hair covered in melting ice, her face red from embarrassment, her body towering over his.

He wanted her.

And so did his cock.

“Jaime!” Brienne yelped, somehow noticing his new predicament. She wasn’t blushing now, instead, she almost looked fascinated before she made herself remember to look him in the eyes again. 

Her eyes were so blue.

“Yes?” he asked, unable to stop a grin from spreading. She wanted him. He knew that she had to, but… still he worried. He never had to worry with Cersei… until the end.

“I don’t think we should… lie together,” Brienne said delicately, a stubborn look on her face.

Jaime snorted. “Stop using your false courtesies and say what you mean, Brienne.”

Her jaw chattered as she glared, her eyes hard when they should have been soft. He sighed, “Just lie down, we won’t face each other, you’ll only feel my back.”

Brienne looked afraid, somehow more afraid of this than dying out in the cold, but nodded. He locked the door then followed her to her bed, she faced the right side, so he faced the left. 

Her back was freezing, as was his, he knew, and he wasn’t sure how much this would help without more of their skin touching.

His erection subsided as they both waited under the blankets to warm up and Jaime wondered if they should be wrapped around each other in front of the fire instead.

“Should—should we be sitting by the fire instead?” Brienne asked, her voice so small and heavy. Her cough was gone though, Jaime wondered if it had just been the cold that brought it on.

“Yes,” Jaime said, “Probably. Are you still very cold?”

“Yes,” Brienne admitted. “I feel as if my toes are going to fall off.”

“The maester said you were in no danger.” But the maester was also in a rush and cared little for Brienne or any other woman he took care of so Jaime trusted his opinion little. “But you’re right, let’s sit in front of the fire. You may have to get closer to me than this though.”

“All right,” Brienne said.

Jaime resisted smiling as they lined up next to each other in front of the hearth. “You first,” he purred, feeling rather dangerous.

She looked at him like he was dangerous, but still shrugged off her blanket as she sat upon the floor. Her body was stranger than he remembered, war did that — men did that, but still he wanted her. 

Half-hard, he sat beside her, pressing his cold stump against her shoulder. “Would you like to hold me, or for me to hold you?”

Jaime couldn’t hear her answer, her teeth were chattering and her voice was too quiet, so he forced her to sit between his legs, his hardening cock pressed against her muscular back, his arms wrapped around her waist, and her head on his shoulder. Her hair was still wet and so it made his shoulder feel colder, but other than that, Jaime did feel much warmer. 

And much more alive.

“Jaime,” she muttered, angling her face towards him, looking her age. Sometimes he forgot how young the wench was, she had seen far too much. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping us alive.”

She said nothing after that, just stared at him. Once he would have thought the expression showed her lack of wits but now he knew her well enough to see that she was thinking quite hard about something. 

And so he was surprised when she pressed a cold hand on his thigh, so gentle and light that he thought he was dreaming. He tightened his own grip on her waist with his one hand, feeling the muscles and small dip there, and wishing he could do more than that. Wishing he could grip her with both of his hands, wishing he could slowly sink his fingers into her cunt.

But she wasn’t his whore nor his wife, nor could she ever be either of those for him.

Brienne wasn’t facing him any longer, instead she stared into the fire, and he wished he knew what she was thinking. 

They sat together like that for too long, Jaime slowly becoming completely hard the more Brienne caressed his thigh. He had to wonder why she didn’t move or say anything about his cock. Did she like that she had that affect on him? Did she wish he was inside her spilling his seed? Was she too embarrassed to move away?

Jaime was too afraid to find out.

“Thank you for saving me, out there,” Brienne said, her voice slow. Her teeth were chattering less. “I would have stopped walking if it weren’t for you.”

_If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t be out there._ “There are so many times you have saved me, Brienne. Allow me this once to return the favor.”

“Jaime,” she said, twisting her whole body to face him now. Her breasts, tiny as they were, were directly in his line of sight and Jaime knew that if he angled himself the right way, he’d be able to feel the hair by her cunt. But her eyes were what captured him. “I feel as though we need to say many things to each other but I am not sure what to say —“

Jaime pressed his lips onto her scar and she stopped talking. He pulled back before kissing her on the lips once… then twice… then a third time. It was not hard and fast like it was with Cersei after she married Robert, no it was more like when he was but a child playing games with his twin, kissing her to see what would happen. 

But now he was kissing Brienne. “Jaime,” she rasped after his third chaste kiss. “What are you doing?”

“Speaking to you… saying the things that need to be said,” he murmured in her ear before placing her earlobe into his mouth. Her rapturous sigh made him completely hard and it was taking every bit of willpower not to place her hips directly over his. 

“This isn’t speaking,” Brienne whispered before he kissed her again. She opened her mouth this time and so Jaime pressed his tongue along her bottom lip. He had to grab her waist before she fell onto him, such a small thing had made her whole body quiver. 

He resisted laughing, knowing that if he did, she’d think he was teasing her or something worse, knowing the ilk that had attempting wooing her before, and instead kissed her again, guiding his hand down from her waist to her hips, up and down, up and down. 

“Please,” she begged when he removed his mouth from hers. 

“Please what?” he asked, kissing her neck. It was still very cold, but becoming warmer, the marks from the noose she had once hung from ( _for him)_ still there. He kissed it again, pressing his tongue where the marks were strongest.

“I don’t know,” she groaned as Jaime took her nipple into his mouth. He wished he could see her eyes now. He pressed his stump between her legs and a sigh escaped Brienne. It was the kind of sigh he could never have imagined from her and now all he wanted to do was hear it again.

Continuing to circle kisses around her breast, he moved his fingers down to where his stump was and tried not to smile about how wet she was. It was easy to move two fingers into her cunt even with her maidenhead. She moved her hips while he moved his fingers and Jaime wished he had more than fingers in her. 

But the gasps that came out of Brienne’s mouth assured him that she had achieved what she needed. She felt so warm now all over that Jaime almost felt strangely guilty as he pulled away from her breast to look back into her eyes.

He was so hard that it hurt but he didn’t think she was ready for that yet. “Are you all right?” he asked Brienne cautiously, his wet fingers touching her shoulder, his stump still between her legs. Even her shoulder muscles were tight and strong. “Was this all right?”

She nodded, almost shyly, ducking her head. “Yes, Jaime.”

He smiled, “Good, wench, because there’s so much more I want to do with you.”

“It’s Brienne,” she admonished.

“I know,” Jaime said, before kissing her. Her arms wrapped around his back and Jaime smiled, wondering why he was allowed to be so happy at the end of the world.

The white cloak was worth it if it brought him to her. 

**Author's Note:**

> I did a poor job editing it so I'm sure it's not perfect! Hope you enjoyed it anyways though! Hope everyone had a good JB week ;)


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